He kicked us out onto the street with the kids, but a year later he fell on his behind and started begging me for cash
Hey, dragonfly, the voice on the speaker crackled, sounding way too familiar. Didnt expect to hear from me?
Claire froze, a bottle of perfume still clutched in her hand. The dressingroom smelled of sandalwood and a faint whiff of success, but suddenly it felt as heavy and sticky as that stairwell a year ago when shed been sleeping there with the children.
What do you want, Graham?
She forced herself to speak evenly, trying not to glance at the snickering of Mike and Emily coming from the kids play area.
Straight to the point, then. No hows it going? or whats new? Were not strangers, Claire. Remember, we have two kids together.
He gave a grin that scraped her nerves like a rusty nail on glass. A whole year shed gone without hearing that smile, that tone that always made his right to her life feel like a thief in the night.
I remember. What do you need?
Claire set the perfume on the marble countertop. Her fingers trembled, but her voice stayed steady. Shed learned that.
Money.
Short and simple. No apologies, no preamble. He hadnt changed a bit.
You serious?
Am I supposed to be a joke? his anger cut through the line. Ive got real problems, Claire. Big ones. And you? Living the highlife, palace, billionaire husband. The papers dont lie, do they?
She stared at her reflection. The woman looking back wore a silk robe and had her hair done at a pricey salon. Not the exhausted, tearstreaked mess hed tossed out the door with two bags of kids stuff.
So now youre a problem for your new dad? Throw a little of your exhusbands life back at him?
My business isnt doing well, you know? I dived into crypto and it blew up. I need cash to settle debts with serious people.
Claire imagined him saying that, slumped in a chair with the same cocky grin, convinced shed crumble again. Hed try to weaponise the guilt hed built up over the years.
You threw us out in the middle of winter, Graham. Remember what Emily said when we were waiting at the station?
Oh, spare me the drama. Im not asking for a manor. £45,000. A pittance for you lot. Pay for my silence if you want.
Silence? About what?
About the price you paid for this sweet life. Think your mate Oliver will be thrilled if I spill a few juicy bits from our past?
The door to the dressing room swung open and David stepped in, calm and impeccably dressed in a suit that fit him like a glove. He caught Claires face, frowned, and asked silently, All good?
Claire looked at him, feeling his steady concern, while Grahams voice hissed through the speaker. Two worlds: the one shed built, and the one he was trying to tear down.
So, Claire? Graham kept going. You gonna help a poor relative? Because if hes crawling on his knees a year from now begging for cash, that means things are really rotten.
She gave David a slow nod, signalling that she had everything under control. For the first time in this call, her tone wasnt fear; it was cold and sharp.
When and where? she asked.
They met at a bland café in the new shopping centre. Loud music, the smell of popcorn, teenagers laughing the perfect spot to yell without anyone hearing.
Claires old habit was to sort problems where no one expected a scene.
Graham was already at a table, a cheaplooking suit trying to pass for something expensive, lazily stirring his juice.
Late, he said, not looking up. Not nice to keep a father of your kids waiting.
Claire sat opposite him, set her bag on the table and kept a tight grip on it. It felt safer.
Im not giving you £45,000, Graham.
Really? he finally met her eyes, envy flickering as he took in her dress and the ring on her finger. Changed your mind? I could just call your Dean now, get his number, no problem.
I could give you £300,000 and a job. Dean has plenty of contacts, he
He laughed loudly, throwing his head back. A few nearby diners turned to look.
A job? You think Im some kid going to interviews? You forgot who I am, Claire. Im a businessman! I need startup capital, not handouts.
His voice hardened. He leaned forward, lowering his tone.
You sit here all prim and proper. Think I dont know how you got there? You told him I was a monster, that you were the poor little lamb? And that you called him a week before meeting him, sobbing, begging to be taken back? Hell love hearing that.
Every word hit her deepest fear that David would see her as the broken, dependent woman shed once been.
Claire silently pulled out a checkbook, still hoping for a compromise, still trying to sort this nicely.
Ill write you a check for £7,500, her voice was flat. Thats the most I can do. Take it and disappear from our lives. Please.
She slid the paper across.
Graham took the check with two fingers, held it up to his eyes, examined it like a trophy, then slowly tore it into four pieces, relishing each rip.
You think youve humiliated me? he hissed. £7,500? Thats your thankyou for all the years Ive wasted on you? For the kids?
He flung the torn bits onto the table; they landed on the glossy surface like dead butterflies.
£45,000, Claire. Or I wont go away. Ill be your curse. Ill call, text, pick up the kids after school, tell them who their real dad is. You have a week.
He stood, tossed a few crumpled notes onto the table for his drink, and left without looking back.
Claire sat frozen, staring at the shredded check. The music boomed, people laughed, and inside her something hardened. Fear turned to icy resolve. The attempt to negotiate had failed, brutally.
The week dragged on like a nightmare. She barely slept, jolting at every ring. She searched for an exit, but the sticky fear kept tightening. She wasnt just scared for herself she was scared for the life David had given her and the kids.
On the seventh day he finally struck.
When she collected the children from the art club, Emily was unusually quiet. At home, tucking her daughter in, Claire saw a bright lollipop in Emilys hand one she hadnt bought.
Where did you get that, Emily?
The little girls eyes widened with fear as she whispered:
Uncle gave it to me today. He said hes my real dad and will soon take us away from bad Uncle Dean. Mum, arent we staying with Dad Dean?
Something clicked inside Claire. Fear and panic vanished, replaced by a cold emptiness that quickly filled with something hard, unbreakable.
Hed dared to get close to her children. To use them.
Enough.
That evening, when David got home from work, a different woman was waiting for him. Her eyes were dry, her gaze steady and sharp.
We need to talk, she said, no preamble, pulling him into a chair in the study.
She laid it all out. No tears, no excuses. How Graham had thrown her out with the kids, how shed slept in the stairwell, how shed been humiliated, how shed lived in fear that the past would ruin the present, and how today hed approached Emily.
David listened in silence, his face turning stone with each word. When she finished, he asked nothing. He simply
What do you want to do? he asked, his voice even, but the calm held a quiet power.
I want him gone. Forever. But not the way he thinks. Im not paying him. I want him to realise he made the biggest mistake of his life.
She stared straight into his eyes, and for the first time she saw not just love and care, but full approval of her darkest side.
Ten minutes later she dialed Graham. Her hands no longer trembled.
Im in, she said, voice steady. £45,000. Tomorrow at noon. Ill send the address. Come yourself.
Graham snorted into the speaker, smug:
Clever girl, finally got it right.
She hung up. The address shed send wasnt a bank or a restaurant. It was the headquarters of David Orwells corporation.
Graham entered the glass skyscraper, swaggering in his best suit, surveying the cold luxury of the lobby like a champion. He walked his own version of justice, as he saw it.
They took him up to the fortieth floor, into a conference room with a floortoceiling window that made the city look like a toy set.
Claire was already there, seated at the head of a long table, composed and calm in a dark navy dress. Beside her sat David, and a little further away, a man with an unreadable face the head of security.
Have a seat, Graham, Claire said, gesturing to the chair opposite.
His confidence wavered a touch. Hed expected a scared woman with a suitcase full of cash.
Whats this then? he glared at David. A family meeting? I thought wed have a deal.
You made a deal with my family, David replied, eyes never leaving Grahams. This is something else.
Claire slid a thick folder across the table.
£45,000, Graham. You wanted it. But just handing it over would be too boring. Weve decided to invest it in you.
Graham stared at the folder, bewildered.
Whats that supposed to mean?
Its your business, explained the security chief, his expression stonecold. Basically, whats left of it. Debts, a few pending fraud cases about to go to court. Highrisk assets.
He opened the folder. Inside were copies of court summonses, bank statements, photos of his meetings with unsavoury characters. His face changed colour.
Weve cleared your most urgent debts, Claire continued. The ones that would have waited for a verdict. Consider it a gift. In exchange
David placed a few sheets and a pen on the table.
In exchange you sign this. Full renunciation of parental rights and a threeyear employment contract.
Graham burst into a hysterical laugh.
Are you kidding? Me, working for you?
Not for you, David clarified. For one of our subcontractors.
In the north, on a construction site, as a foreman. Decent pay, solid terms. Youll be back in three years, debtfree and with a clean record.
Screw you! Graham shouted, leaping up. Ill ruin you! Ill tell everyone!
Youll tell, the security chief said, tapping the folder. But after that, your words will be worth less than this paper. And those documents will end up on a detectives desk today. The choice is yours.
Graham scanned their faces: Claires calm, Davids ironlike stare, the security mans indifferent gaze. No doubt, no chance. He was trapped.
He sank heavily into his chair, bravado melting away like cheap gold. He was no longer the predator, but a cornered, pitiful jackal.
His trembling hand picked up the pen.
When the final signature was set, Claire rose, walked around the table and stopped right in front of him.
You said if a man comes crawling on his knees a year later asking for money, his affairs are in terrible shape, she whispered.
Youre not on your knees, Graham. The floors just too pricey. Youve got your startup capital. Time to begin a new life.
She turned and left without looking back. David followed, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.
In that massive conference room, under the indifferent watch of the security chief, the defeated man sat alone. The winner had lost everything.
